


what was that promise that you made?

by jill_ian



Category: Actor RPF, Martin and Lewis, Martin and Lewis RPF
Genre: Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, shamefully fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 18:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17627465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jill_ian/pseuds/jill_ian
Summary: The first time Dean said, “I love you,” he didn’t exactly say it, if we’re being perfectly literal.





	what was that promise that you made?

The first time Dean said, “I love you,” he didn’t exactly say it, if we’re being perfectly literal.

They’d been in Miami for a few days now and were set to stay for another week before heading back up the coast. They were staying at a beautiful hotel on the beach in a suite so large Jerry was convinced he hadn’t seen all of it yet, though there hadn’t been much leftover time in their busy schedule to lounge in it. They spent a majority of their time performing at a series of clubs all around town and having an absolute ball, playing to people that adored them so much that they always stayed on well past their allotted time slot.

Nice weather. Nice hotel. Nice crowds. Life really didn’t get much better than this.

For all the fun and excitement, Jerry was pretty grateful he’d thrown an off day into their schedule midway through the trip; they were running on fumes and needed a day to recharge, just as he predicted would happen.

Dean was chipper because he didn’t have to wake up quite so early to be able to squeeze a round of golf in before their shows started, nor did he have to rush away the moment he was done. He spent the morning at a country club somewhere and Jerry took the opportunity to sleep late into the early afternoon.

When he finally woke up and met up with a bunch of the boys from the band for lunch, they were already discussing their plans for the night. They were all going out with the intention of finding a club to blow some steam off in until the sun came up. Jerry listened with a certain degree of interest, but he mostly wondered what Dean would think of the idea more than anything.

When Dean came back from golfing and found them all lounging by the pool, the boys quickly started trying to convince him to tag along for the night. Dean declined gently, but without hesitation, telling them he really needed a night to catch up on sleep. It was a valid point with which no one could argue. His eyes found Jerry’s as he explained, nonchalantly and so quickly that no one but him noticed it even happened, but the sudden flash of desire in the look was enough to make Jerry’s cheeks hot.

When the boys gave up on him and tried to work on Jerry, he made the same excuse, deliberately not looking at Dean so that he wouldn’t give them away. He lacked Dean’s ability to be discreet and he couldn’t deny that the underlying anticipation of a night alone was enough to make him giddy.

The rest of the day could not have passed more slowly with the prospect of having uninterrupted time with Dean stuck in his head. It only got worse when Dean started letting him know he was having the same trouble, too. He didn’t say as much out loud, he never did, but Jerry could tell in some of the things he was doing.

Like when they were ordering drinks at the bar and Dean casually rested his hand on the back of his neck while they waited side by side. Or when they went down to the ocean and Dean kept on brushing the back of his hand against his as they walked. Or when they sat across from each other at dinner with everyone and Dean hooked his foot around his ankle under the table.

So, when they were finally able to go up to their room later that night, Jerry breathed a sigh of relief because it seemed like all of the waiting would be over.

Except they hit yet another roadblock the moment the boys in the band unexpectedly showed up knocking on their door and gradually shuffled in one by one. Apparently, there had been an unspoken plan to get ready in Dean and Jerry’s suite, rather than get ready separately in their own individual rooms, because it was big enough to accommodate all of them.

That’s the way it normally went before everyone hit the town and for either of them to have expected anything to be any different tonight was pretty stupid in retrospect, but it didn’t make it any easier. Especially not when Jerry had been thinking about getting Dean back here alone all day long, only to have the first opportunity slip through his fingers like sand.

However badly he was struggling though, he was still faring better than Dean.

Over the next hour or two, Jerry watched as Dean’s patience thinned almost literally before his eyes.

He started out fine enough. Jerry sensed his agitation in the way he couldn’t sit still, unable to stay in one place or talk to one person for very long, but he was friendly enough and didn’t draw attention to himself or how restless he felt. He made pleasant conversation and worked his way around the room to talk to everyone.

But after a while, the façade showed signs of slipping. Jerry noticed that Dean, rather pointedly, began to look down at his watch; he lost count of the amount of times he looked over and saw Dean pushing up his shirtsleeve to look at his wrist. The amused smile that was always plastered on his face had faded and his lips were drawn in a tight line, jaw set. His responses in his conversations were limited to nods or disinterested hums, unable to feign even the slightest of interest in whatever was being discussed.

And then all of a sudden, Jerry didn’t see him anymore. His eyes darted around the entire suite hoping to catch the sight of his slick curls or his broad shoulders, but he never did and disappointment nested itself in his chest before he could even attempt to rationalize the situation.

The logical part of his brain told him that Dean probably bailed and went outside to get some fresh air. He also knew the aggravation of their night being pushed back wouldn’t have been the only factor that would lead him to do such a thing. The crowded room had probably begun to make him feel antsy and when Dean got antsy, the solution was simple: he got out. Jerry felt like he was deflating as the seconds ticked by with no trace of him, but he couldn’t deny that he understood.

Except then, out of nowhere, Dean emerged from his bedroom, cigarette in hand, seemingly wearing only slippers and one of the pure white complimentary bathrobes that had been left for them when they checked in. The belt was tied in a simple knot around his middle and his tanned chest was peeking out of the top. Jerry’s throat was suddenly very, _very_ dry.

Dean crossed the room nonchalantly, purposefully ignoring all of the eyes on him, as well as all the laughter. As he watched him, Jerry’s mind immediately jumped to wonder if he was so bold as to have nothing at all on beneath it, but he wasn’t left in suspense for very long. When Dean sat down on the couch and easily crossed one leg over the other, the bottom of the robe slid up to reveal the soft skin of his thigh and Jerry’s breath caught so suddenly that he choked on his drink.

The stunt went over brilliantly and all the guys nearly wet themselves laughing, but they also understood the hint and it wasn’t long before they started shuffling out of the suite. Jerry stood by the door, saying goodbye to everyone as they left. Dean only left the couch when the last of the guys made their way out and Jerry closed the door behind them.

When he turned, he was face to face with Dean and before he could even blink, Dean was kissing him, hands on either side of his neck, thumbs framing his cheeks. He inhaled sharply, hands instinctively going to Dean’s sides, fingers holding onto the belt of the robe. Slowly, Dean led him backwards until his back hit the door and Jerry let his weight fall comfortably against it. Dean’s palms were flat against the door on either side of his head, surrounding him completely and Jerry felt a rush of heat low in his stomach.

When Dean broke away, Jerry’s mouth went immediately to his neck, pulling him forward by the hips until they were so close that one of Dean’s knees was slotted between his. Dean swallowed hard and Jerry could feel it beneath his lips.

“Thought they’d never leave,” Dean said, voice low and rough.

Jerry couldn’t contain a self-satisfied smile. “Guess having the biggest room means there’s an open invite.”

“I was hoping theirs would get lost in the mail.”

Jerry laughed. Out of all the things in the world, seeing Dean lose his cool was undoubtedly one of his favorites. “Could’ve just started anyway.”

“With all of them here?”

“Uh huh,” he hummed, lips too busy to speak.

“I don’t think so,” he said around a groan, brought on by Jerry using his teeth to give his earlobe a gentle tug.

“How come?”

“Don’t much feel like sharing.”

Dean caught his lips again before he could respond and Jerry felt a pleasant shiver run up his spine, anticipation and excitement simultaneously taking over.

Jerry’s hands found the knot at the front of the robe and made quick work out of undoing it, parting the two sides, giving way to smooth, tanned skin. His hands travelled slowly from his stomach up to his chest and when his fingers hit fabric, he pushed the robe off his shoulders with ease. The sound of it hitting the floor was like music to Jerry’s ears.

His hands continued their journey up and he looped his arms around Dean’s neck, fingers finding their way into his hair. Now, with Dean’s mouth moving confidently against his and his fingers working on the buttons of his shirt, he could say with absolute certainty that the torture of waiting all day was already well worth it.

The sex was slow and unhurried. There was no fear of anyone knocking on the door or barging in. There was no looming knowledge of a show in a half hour or a meeting they were already however many minutes late for. They took their time and were able to approach it with a level of intimacy and ease they too often had to neglect. It was all wandering hands and long kisses and soft sighs, content to go slow and wring it out for everything it was worth.

And that’s how they ended up here, with Jerry rolling onto his side while he came down from his high, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. It was only a second before Dean scooted up behind him, chest snug against his back. Dean’s arm wrapped around his middle, palm resting flat on his chest, right over his still rapidly beating heart.

Jerry felt him lean his forehead against the back of his head. He could imagine that Dean had closed his eyes from the way he had fallen so quiet, also slowly trying to calm his heavy breaths, muffled on the back of his neck.

When he finally got his breathing under control, Dean angled his head further forward, resting his lips along the gentle curve of his shoulder and Jerry felt a smile pull at the corners of his mouth. His head lolled back to give Dean better access to his neck, which he took full advantage of, slowly pressing kisses anywhere his lips could reach, taking his time in mapping him out. Jerry let his mind go blank as he focused on the sensation.

When Dean got back down by the base of his neck, he took a sudden playful nip at his skin, sucking on it lightly, and Jerry gasped with a slight jerk forward, pouting even though Dean wouldn’t be able to see him.

“Knock it off.”

“Who? Me?” Dean asked, feigning confusion.

“Yes, _you_. Quit it.”

“Quit what?”

“You know what. _That_ ,” he said matter-of-factly. “Should I cover where and when while we’re at it?”

“Please,” Dean said sweetly, but there was something light in his tone that told Jerry he was playing with him.

“The _where_ is _here_ and the _when_ is _right now_.”

“I think you forgot why,” he pointed out and Jerry resisted the urge to pinch his arm.

“You know why. It’s gonna leave a mark.”

“You think so?”

“’Course I think so.”

“Maybe we should test it and see.” Dean made like he was going to do it again and Jerry squirmed, trying to move away, but Dean’s arm tightened around him, holding him in place. He couldn’t contain a laugh as Jerry struggled to worm his way away from him.

He stopped fidgeting with a huff. “Are you crazy?”

“You don’t want somethin’ to remember me by?” he asked innocently, but Jerry knew he was smiling.

“There’s nothing to forget. I look at your face every day.”

“But we don’t get to do _this_ every day,” he stated plainly and Jerry couldn’t even argue that point. Dean rested his mouth against the spot he’d bitten and Jerry’s skin dampened his next few words. “Besides, it’s not like you wouldn’t like it.”

Jerry scoffed. “Awful big assumption.”

He should’ve known better than to think he’d leave it at that. Dean’s lips wandered lazily before stopping to pay particular attention to a spot just below his ear, but it was only a moment before he bit gently at it. Jerry couldn’t hold back a moan, unable to stop the noise from leaving the back of his throat as his eyes fluttered shut. Dean broke away with a soft laugh.

“What were you were saying again?” Jerry could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I hate you.” He sounded breathless and he knew that wasn’t helping his case one bit. “I was saying that I hate you. A lot.”

“I know,” Dean chuckled.

Dean resumed the gentle kisses, little more than an easy drag of his lips over his skin and Jerry let his head fall back once more. Even if Jerry hated him, it never lasted more than a second. How could it?

It wasn’t long before Dean began to trail the pad of his pointer finger smoothly across his chest, idle and aimless and Jerry was more than willing to just lay and bask in all the affection Dean was giving him.

But soon he noticed something much more deliberate in the movement of his finger; it didn’t feel random at all anymore. It was almost like he was spelling something.

He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the path of Dean’s finger, trying to imagine the movement being drawn out in his mind and recognize the shapes, or rather, the letters. He used every bit of his concentration to try and make sense of them, picking up a new piece of the puzzle every time.

What he figured out first was that Dean was repeating the same sequence of letters each time, which assembled what felt like 3 words, 8 letters between them all.

Next, he began to pick up the letters themselves.

 _I_ ; that one he recognized quickly. After that was an _O_ somewhere and then a few letters later came another. The _Y_ and the _V_ took a while because they felt so similar. The _E_ and the _U_ were equally as challenging. The _L_ probably took him the longest because for a few tries, he thought it felt like another ‘I’.

But once he knew what he was working with and was confident with what he’d picked up on, he could try to put them in order.

Dean started the sequence over. Jerry concentrated.

This time, Jerry was able to follow along, putting the letters into place with relative ease, but about halfway through, when it all suddenly clicked, something like disbelief and shock hit him all at once and his heart leapt into his throat.

Dean started the sequence over. Jerry held his breath.

3 words. 8 letters.

 _I_. Pause.  
_L O V E_. Pause.  
_Y O U_. Pause.

And then again. And again. And again. Over and over and over until Jerry lost track of how many times he traced it, following the letters every single time.

Jerry let himself be overwhelmed for a while. He let a massive wave of a thousand different emotions roll through him as he tried to process the seriousness of what Dean was doing, or rather, of what he was trying to say. It wasn’t like Dean to put himself out on a limb like that unless he was absolutely certain of it.

Composing and controlling himself was a struggle. Jerry wanted nothing more than to be able to turn around, say the words to his face, and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe, but he knew he couldn’t. Dean would panic, or worse, he would close himself off and revert, and Jerry couldn’t take the risk of pushing him away or losing him. Not at a time like this.

Instead, he waited for Dean to finish again before covering the back of his hand with one of his own. He pulled it away from his chest, far enough that he could see it in front of him. Then, he brought his other hand up to Dean’s palm, using his pointer finger and writing slowly.

 _I_. Pause.  
_L O V E_. Pause.  
_Y O U_. Pause.  
_T O O_. Pause.

He did it again, hoping desperately that Dean knew what he was saying. After the third time, Dean closed his hand around his, stopping him from doing it again.

The world stood still for a long moment.

His heart was pounding when Dean pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, shifting impossibly closer, completely eliminating what had been a minimal space between them to begin with. Jerry settled back against him, bringing their hands back to him and resting Dean’s flat against his chest, intertwining their fingers with ease. Dean’s thumb traced lazily at his collarbone.

Jerry head was filled with so many things he wanted to say that he thought he might burst if he didn’t let one of them out. He wasn’t going to be able to hold his tongue for much longer and he racked his brain for something to say, anything to say, that wouldn’t freak him out.

Nervous butterflies spread in his stomach like wildfire, but he gave Dean’s hand a light squeeze. “I mean it, you know.” He spoke softly, almost like Dean didn’t have to hear it if he didn’t want.

It surprised him when Dean nodded, nose brushing against his hair. “Me too,” he said, the words no louder than a breath.

Jerry knew Dean struggled with words, with the permanence and the reality of hearing them out loud. There was a level of vulnerability involved in saying things that he just didn’t like to subject himself to and Jerry didn’t blame him, not when he knew so much about the mindset he’d grown up with.

_Don’t say._

_Don’t show._

_Don’t feel._

_Don’t fall._

That mantra. Drilled into his head. Day after day. Year after year.

Yet, despite all of that, he managed to have one of the biggest hearts Jerry had ever known. He didn’t struggle with feeling. He never struggled with feeling.

Only with saying. And sometimes with showing.

And tonight he put his fears on the hold, letting Jerry in, giving him a window into his emotions without making himself so vulnerable that he couldn’t follow through with it.

Maybe Jerry didn’t hear the words with his ears, but he didn’t need to hear them when he knew. Words didn’t mean much when it was the simple act of feeling that mattered the most.

And for now, just knowing was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you liked this piece of self indulgent nonsense. I've got a couple more things planned, idk when they'll actually be done, but stay tuned for that! 
> 
> The title comes from the song "Touch Me" by The Doors.
> 
> And as always, come find me yelling about these two idiots over at holdenduckfield.tumblr.com


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